


Two Letters

by roryheadmav



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare
Genre: Coriolanus - Freeform, Donmar Warehouse, M/M, Parallel Lives, Plutarch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What really happened to Caius Martius Coriolanus after he was banished from Rome? This story recounts Coriolanus' life during his exile up to the time that he was murdered by Tullus Aufidius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snakecharmed79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakecharmed79/gifts).



> After very careful deliberation, I've decided to post this fic here, simply because it has turned into a monster. I was planning for this to be a oneshot, but once I exceeded 25 pages and I'm still not halfway through, I knew that I've already exceeded the limits of a short oneshot. 
> 
> While this fic draws inspiration from the Donmar Warehouse version of CORIOLANUS, I've taken more information about Coriolanus' life during his exile from Plutarch's PARALLEL LIVES. LIVES has more details of what Coriolanus was doing while he lived with the Volsces. 
> 
> Let me say outright that I am writing this fic with a much shorter Hiddlesworth Gladiator AU story. This is the first time that I've writing two stories simultaneously. This is because both are set in Ancient Rome although different time periods. For now, I am posting the Prologue and Chapter 1. 
> 
> This story is for Snakecharmed79, who has been so kind and generous to narrate to me her various impressions of the play. I hope you'll like this story, dear.

**TWO LETTERS**

**Copyright April 23, 2014 By Rory**

 

 

**Chapter 1**

 

The news of Rome's final and decisive battle against the Volsces reached Virgilia, as always, through the gossipy tongue of the Lady Valeria, who in turn heard about it through her brother Publicola in the Senate. Whether it was a victory or a defeat, Virgilia's ears had grown deaf and heart weary of such things ever since her beloved husband Caius Martius—he who was once dubbed Coriolanus with great pride by his people before he was so bitterly betrayed and banished into exile—was assassinated by his enemies whom he had mistakenly chosen to ally with in his fervent desire for revenge. Eager though Valeria was to tell her the gruesome details of the death of her husband's mortal foe Tullus Aufidius, she simply gave the esteemed lady a polite nod and quiet thanks, a firm enough indication that she did not wish to hear anymore.

 

After all, Virgilia would soon hear about everything that had transpired in the battle from the one woman whom she could not silence.

 

Sure enough, the doors to her bedchamber banged open and her son, Young Martius, named after his sire, ran crying into her arms. Following after the boy was his enraged grandmother, the Lady Volumnia, her face splattered with blood. If she had not been wearing the mourning black, Virgilia was certain that it was blood-spattered as well. Trailing behind Volumnia was a distraught Menenius Agrippa. The poor man had diminished considerably following his best friend's most cruel renunciation.

 

"Mother, I'm sorry!" Young Martius wailed in her lap as she ran her fingers soothingly over his soft blond curls. "I tried to do it, as Grandmother ordered me to! But I just couldn't do it! I can't!"

 

 ** _"USELESS PUP!"_** Volumnia roared at the terrified child. **_"The opportunity to avenge your father, our family's shame, was right there in front of you, and YOU REFUSED TO TAKE IT!"_**

 

"Volumnia, please," Menenius argued feebly. "Martius is just a child. You cannot ask a mere boy to bloody his hands, even for such a thing as revenge and family honor."

 

"Don't you see, Menenius? There is no more honor, because this…this whelp…" The enraged matriarch pointed to her grandson, **_"REFUSED_** to draw the very life blood which would have washed away the stain on our family's name." Then, there was a sharp glint in Volumnia's eye as she suddenly remembered something. Narrowing her eyes at the cringing boy, she asked, "Do you still have them, Martius?" It did not sound like an inquiry; it was more of an accusation.

 

"Have what, Madam?" Virgilia inquired, feeling her son's arms tighten around her waist. "Menenius? You are still of calm disposition. Please tell me what has happened that my son should be berated so."

 

Menenius took in a deep shuddering breath. "The Romans captured Tullus Aufidius. Because the Volsce was mortally wounded, he was delivered to the Senate for the final sentence to be imposed upon him by the House of Caius Martius. The Lady Volumnia commanded Young Martius to cut his throat. Aufidius himself was prepared to die, and said as much. But not before pressing into your son's hands letters which that Volsce begged to be delivered into your hands. As you have already heard, Young Martius could not kill him, and Aufidius died before anyone could set blade to him. Deprived of revenge, Lady Volumnia seized the dagger from your son's hands and…abused…Aufidius' still warm flesh most horribly. She had grabbed one of the letters and read it for a few seconds, before Young Martius took it from out of her hands and ran swiftly home with them.  A good thing he did too, or else…"

 

"I would've cut off Aufidius' cock and fed it to the dogs! Vile Volscian knave! He has made my son into his catamite! **_HIS WHORE!_** " Volumnia rounded on her grandson once more. "Give me those letters… **RIGHT NOW!** I will not have your father's name sullied even further by the words of that Volsce! They must be destroyed! **_HAND THEM OVER…NOW!_** "

 

Volumnia tried to violently wrench the shrieking boy free from his mother's embrace. Menenius attempted to pull her back, but she was like a fiend possessed of strength and blind fury.

 

Whatever respect and fear she once held for her husband's mother drained out of Virgilia completely. Pulling her son out of his grandmother's grasp, she whipped her right hand out and slapped Volumnia fiercely.

 

Clutching her smarting cheek, Volumnia stared aghast at her daughter-in-law. **_"HOW DARE YOU!"_**

 

"I have accorded you the honor and respect that is due you as my husband's mother, even if I never agreed with the way you pushed Martius into a role that he is not suited for. I will not let you do the same to **OUR** son!" Virgilia stood up in a stern, defiant stance, cocking her head up in challenge. "These letters you speak of…they belong to me! I, and I alone, will decide whether they should be destroyed or not!"

 

**_"YOU'RE A FOOL, WOMAN!"_ **

****

**_"YES, I AM INDEED A FOOL!_** Perhaps, if I had found the courage to raise my voice against you sooner, my dearest Martius would still be with us right now!"

 

Volumnia was going to demand further, but Virgilia stood her ground. For once, the proud matriarch found her match. With a furious cry, she stormed out of Virgilia's chambers and slammed the doors shut behind her.

 

Virgilia felt her knees buckle beneath her. With the assistance of both her son and Menenius, she sagged back down into her seat.

 

When she had finally regained some control over her emotions, she turned to Young Martius. "Son, you have something for me from Aufidius."

 

Her son reached into his shirt and pulled out bloodstained sheets of paper bound together with rough twine. Handing them to his mother, Young Martius said, "Aufidius…he begged me to give them to you. He also told me that he was truly sorry for what he had done…that he had loved Father." The boy cocked his head to the side, his face mirroring his confusion. "Mother, what did he mean by that? And what was that word that Grandmother said? Cata…cata…" Young Martius frowned. "If Aufidius loved Father as he said, then why did he kill him? I don't understand."

 

It was Menenius who proved to be Virgilia's savior. "Young Martius, the answers to your questions are far too complicated for tender minds such as yours to understand. When you are older, she will answer them all. But for the meantime, you have her heartfelt gratitude that you have saved these last, precious keepsakes of your father from the wrath of your grandmother." Tears glistened in Menenius' eyes. "Your father had given me a letter, but in my pain and grief at his rejection, I never read it fully and I let it fall to the ground. Not a day goes by that I don't regret never keeping Martius' last letter to me."

 

As the patrician and her son were talking, Virgilia had untied the twine and was looking through the pages. One sheet with a familiar name instantly caught her eye. She slowly raised it to the old man. "Menenius? I believe this letter is for you. It's from Martius. It seems Aufidius had picked it up and kept it on the chance that he might be able to give it to you."

 

With trembling hand, Menenius took the letter. As soon as he read the salutation, the tears he was struggling to hold poured down his face. "Thank you, and the gods be merciful to Aufidius for doing this service to me," he choked out in mixed sadness and relief. To Young Martius, he declared, "Come, my boy. Let us leave your mother alone so that she can read her letters."

 

Young Martius gave the kind old man a nod. Giving his mother a kiss and a reassuring hug, he allowed Menenius to take his hand and escort him to his own room.

 

When she was finally alone, Virgilia walked out onto the balcony, bearing the letters with her. Briefly, she stared out into the city, which had been the cause of her husband's meteoric rise and devastating fall. Sighing, she sat down on the divan, laying the two letters in front of her side by side. One was definitely from her husband Martius; his utilitarian scrawl was unmistakable. The other was from Aufidius.

 

Both letters began with sincere and painful apologies.

 

_"My beloved Virgilia, Please forgive me for leaving you and our son, and breaking your heart."_

_"To the gentle Lady Virgilia, I beg your forgiveness for taking away your dearest husband, in body, heart and soul."_

 

"Why do you both ask for my forgiveness," Virgilia whispered, a sad but fond smile going up the corners of her lips, "when there is nothing for me to forgive?"

 

In truth, Virgilia had known for a very long time where Martius' heart truly lay, even if he was not aware of it in the beginning.

 

That, although he may speak of Tullus Aufidius with such intense hatred during his waking hours, at night, in Morpheus' embrace, he would moan out his rival's name with such desire and longing.

 

In fact, Virgilia had once woken Martius up from such a fevered dream, which her confused husband could not remember.

 

"I'm jealous, Martius," she had teased him then. "Many times you have called out Aufidius' name with such intense passion. Why, I'm starting to believe that you are madly in love with him."

 

"Don't speak such nonsense, Wife," Martius exclaimed in grievous offense. "If I had indeed spoken Aufidius' name in my sleep, it was to challenge him in battle in the world of dreams."

 

But Virgilia was perceptive enough to see that her husband was not entirely convinced by his own words.

 

Yes, a very thin line separated hate and love, and somehow Martius and Aufidius crossed that line.

 

 _"My new life began when I made the decision to head to Antium to see Aufidius,"_ Martius wrote her.

 

Almost similarly, Aufidius wrote in his letter in turn, _"The start of my second life was when I chose to make Martius my ally and welcomed him into my home."_

 

So alike they were these two brave, star-crossed warriors. The Fates could not have joined such two compatible souls.

 

"So…why did you, in the end, turn against each other?" Virgilia asked with such curious sorrow.

 

Carefully, she arranged the pages of both letters in their proper chronological order. Virgilia then lay down on the divan with the letters in hand, pulling a pillow beneath her head, as she began to read.

 

~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 1

**TWO LETTERS**

**Copyright April 23, 2014 By Rory**

**Chapter 1**

 

_"There is a world elsewhere."—Caius Martius Coriolanus_

 

Caius Martius Coriolanus clung to these hope-filled words as he bade his weeping family and friends a final farewell. These words gave him the strength and courage to march through Rome's streets, even as the angry mob shouted curses at him and hurled rotten fruits, vegetables and dung at his proud, defiant form. Their relentless abuse of him would have been impetus enough to unsheathe his sword which Cominius had returned to him and insisted that he bring along in his exile. Instead, Martius endured in stoic silence, not betraying his seething rage on his face or by clenching his fists even when he was outside the city and its gates irrevocably shut behind him.

 

Still, Martius did not cease his solemn march, his flinty blue gray eyes focused on a "world elsewhere." Even when stone, marble and wood dwelling places gave way to rolling corn fields, he continued on, unmindful of neither the passage of minutes into hours nor the heat of the sun traversing the heavens above his head.

 

It was a good hour and half past midday that Martius stopped. What had woken him from his trance was the small watering hole which had suddenly appeared before his path. For a few minutes, he stared, blinking, at the pool before memory returned to him that he and his men would often stop by here to refresh themselves before they headed off to battle or returned home to Rome.

 

Only then realizing just how weary he was, Martius knelt down beneath the shelter of the leafy branches of a fig tree at the edge of the pool and dipped his cupped right hand into its cool waters. Again and again, he drank of the sweet water, inwardly cursing his stubborn pride that he had not at least brought a water skin with him as his ever practical wife Virgilia had insisted prior to his departure.

 

Looking down at his reflection, Martius beheld a most pitiful sight. His face was streaked with fruit and vegetable stains and stinking brown and black mud and refuse. There were bits of tomatoes and torn cabbage leaves in his blond hair. His shirt and trousers, as well as the sling of his left arm, was completely covered in filth.

 

Martius sighed deeply at this loathsome evidence of the people's hatred for him. And he had almost thrown his life away in Corioles for these worthless, cowardly ingrates?

 

Again, he took another deep breath. In his pride, he would never admit that he was on the verge of tears at his miserable state. Rather than give in to self-pity, Martius stomped down hard on the feelings of despair and, instead, let the anger surge into his heart. With a snarl, he splashed water all over himself and washed away the filth. But when the water seeped into his still fresh wounds, he winced at the sudden pain and gentled his strokes. When he gazed at his reflection once more, he was pleased to see that he had regained some measure of propriety.

 

Feeling more himself again, Martius got to his feet. There was a world out there to be discovered. No…conquered. He will not be beaten down by the ungrateful countrymen who had denounced him.

 

And he set off again.

 

However, word of Martius' fall into disgrace flew swifter than the ex-soldier walking on foot. When he arrived in the small town of Gabii, he was shocked to find an angry townspeople awaiting him bearing crude weapons. Although it was beneath him to beg, he requested that he be given a small piece of bread and be allowed to stay in the stables for a single night. His request fell on deaf ears and he was driven away. That evening, Martius slaughtered a small quail he had caught and spent the night sleeping in a grass-covered ditch under the stars.

 

In the days that followed, Martius encountered the same ill treatment in every town and village he passed through. Each time, he would be ruthlessly driven away in a hail of rocks and garbage. Some men would even pummel him with blows and kicks which he barely endured between gritted teeth.

 

The final straw came for him when he arrived at the town of Bollae. Martius was already expecting both physical and verbal abuse. However, when the tribune and leading merchant of the town demanded certain…services…from him in exchange for food and shelter, Martius fiercely rebuked his obscene advances. Although the tribune ordered that he be beaten to put him in his place, the ex-soldier knew that he would rather die than surrender to what the man had in store for him. In the end, he had drawn his sword and held the tribune's thugs back, injuring one man but not without suffering a wound himself on his still healing left arm. Still, seeing that he would not be cowed, the men drew back, giving Martius the opportunity to flee.

 

To avoid any such incidents from happening again, Martius avoided all towns, choosing instead the longer route of going through sprawling fields of wheat and corn. Even the farmers he avoided like the plague. Treated worse than any beggar or leper, the once esteemed soldier now resorted to stealing and hunting in order to survive. It certainly did not help that the arm wound that he had obtained back in Bollae had begun to fester, making it very painful to move. Before long, his whole body was ablaze with fever and he was shivering from a cold which could not be dispelled even with a hot, toasty campfire.

 

One morning, although delirious with fever, Martius continued onwards on a journey which he refused to believe had no end. By this point, only stubborn pride and willpower kept him moving his feet forward. That, and the images of his wife and child which kept on appearing before his path. There was even a moment when he had seen his mother Volumnia, egging him on to march forth with her usual pushiness.

 

However, the one figure that succeeded in pushing him toward his unknown destination was the image of his mortal foe, Tullus Aufidius.

 

"You must not die, Martius! Not yet!" Aufidius taunted him. "You can only die by my hand!"

 

"HAH!" Martius retorted at his tormentor, swiping a hand over his sweaty, fevered brow. "Of course I'm not going to die! Not before I drive my sword into your guts!"

 

"I shall bathe in a cauldron of your blood!" the Volsce laughed raucously.

 

"I shall bathe in the blood of ALL the Volscians!" the Roman snapped back, an insane grin on his face.

 

This exchange went on for what seemed like an eternity. What stopped Martius in the end was Aufidius holding his hand out to him, a warm smile on his ruggedly handsome face, visible even through his thick beard.

 

"Join me in my hatred toward the Romans, Martius," Aufidius said invitingly. "Come to me. Let me give you the revenge that you crave."

 

Revenge…that word was like a beacon which, for a brief moment, opened his fever-clouded mind.

 

"Aufidius…yes…revenge," Martius whispered as he fell to the ground in a dead faint.

 

~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Chapter 2

**TWO LETTERS**

**Copyright April 26, 2014 By Rory**

 

**Chapter 2**

When Martius woke up, he had been expecting to find himself lying on the same dirt road he had collapsed on or, if the gods were merciful, he would be in the hallowed halls of Olympus, welcomed with esteemed favor by Mars or perhaps Jupiter himself.

 

As his eyelids fluttered open, with some disappointment, he took in the sight of the blazing hearth before him. Then, a smiling face popped into view, rheumy brown eyes peering at him in both joy and relief. The face before him did not belong to a Roman but a Volsce, and it mortified him that he still could not remember the man's name.

 

Seeing that the Volsce was awaiting a response from him, Martius settled for the more pedestrian greeting of "Friend." His poor voice was appallingly weak, even to his own ears.

 

"You still don't remember my name?" the man asked good-naturedly.

 

Martius slowly shook his head. "Forgive me."

 

"'Tis all right, My Lord," the Volsce reassured him. "My name is shared by far too many men so that it is easily forgotten. And yet, forgotten though it was, it did not hinder you from having me sought out by none other than esteemed general and consul Postumus Cominius Auruncus himself. 'Tis most fortunate that I have kept the token that you have gifted me with." He showed the bleary-eyed soldier lying on the cot a gleaming gold medallion with the profile of his great grandfather Censorinus Marcius and the name and seal of the House of Marcii emblazoned at the back. "For aiding you in Corioles, he has generously given me and my family a humble farm in Circaeum near the border of the Volscian territories. For now though, I have taken on the appointed task of accompanying the colonists here to Velitrae."

 

Velitrae…Yes, Martius recalled this place held significance to Rome when its emissaries arrived laden with corn and other crops, offering up their city to the Senate in the hopes that they would send able-bodied men and women to help in the rebuilding and re-population after their citizenry was decimated by a terrible pestilence. As for Circaeum, which was to be his benefactor's new home, it was a small farming colony wherein both its Roman citizens freely and peacefully mingled with their Volscian neighbors.  Cominius was indeed wise to bring this man…Gallus, Gallus Orcinius, yes he at last remembered his name…and his kin to Circaeum.

 

Martius' face must have brightened at the sudden recollection because Gallus remarked, "I see you now remember who I am, Lord Coriolanus."

 

"Please, Gallus," Martius begged, his voice hoarse from disuse. "I am no one's Lord, not anymore, although I still bear the right to that name which may be disagreeable to your ears, having once been a citizen of Corioles. I was banished by the common people, useless, cowardly fools who would neither fight for their country nor till the earth unless they are bestowed privileges same as that of the patricians." He said all this in a single breath, his words heavy with disdain. "They ask for too much, but give nothing in return. When I called them out on their hypocrisy, they sentenced me to exile." Martius snorted bitterly. "I would've preferred to be thrown from the Tarpeian Rock than endure this shame and humiliation."

 

Gallus patted his arm. "Yes, news of your fall from grace has reached us even here. You do not have to fear though. The people of Velitrae are aware of how you have spoken in favor of the city's renewed colonization, so they are grateful to you. We are also thankful to Lord Cominius that he had chosen mostly good men and women to be among the new colonists. There are a few who were among the rabble in Rome, but they will not cause trouble for you here. Most of us here are indebted to you and will not see you come to any harm." The Volsce smiled in reassurance. "Besides, what need have we for riches, wealth, and prestige when we have crops that provide us with food and a roof above our heads to protect us from the fickle weather? We have no interest in politics. Humble farmer folk we are, but we are happy and content in our simplicity."

 

Martius gazed into the fire and then closed his eyes, shuddering as the memory of the mob that drove him away from his home filled his mind. He turned onto his back carefully, only to be surprised by the absence of pain.

 

"My wife Emilia is a healer," Gallus explained. "She has been industriously cleaning your wounds and then stitched closed those that have reopened. Emilia has also been giving you herbal concoctions to fight the infection and fever as well as dull the pain."

 

"How long have I been ill?"

 

"Five days. You were either very still in deathly sleep or moaning and ranting in feverish delirium. If I had gone through what you had so courageously endured, I definitely would've ranted while delirious as well."

 

Marcius was curious enough to want to know what he had said while dreaming. "Gallus, what exactly did I rant about?"

 

"Mostly you were shouting curses at your plebeian tormentors," Gallus revealed. "Sometimes, you would moan and mumble in your sleep, too soft for us to understand. Only two words you repeated often. The first was revenge." A moment's hesitation. "The second was a name…Aufidius. I take it you mean Tullus Aufidius."

 

Martius raised his right arm and crossed it over his eyes, groaning inwardly. Had Aufidius bewitched him when last they fought in Corioles? No, apparently the Volsce had been a visitor in his dreams even way before, if what Virgilia had told him was true.

 

 _Gods save me from this abashment!_ He thought in shame and dismay as he covered his face with both hands so that Gallus would not see the redness of his cheeks. _Why is that confounded Volsce hounding me even in my dreams?_

 

 Embarrassed as he was, Martius did not see the thoughtful expression that crossed Gallus' face. "My Lord," he began, "I am not a close acquaintance of that esteemed Volsce but, by his reputation, I have heard that he is an honorable man. I do understand if your anger toward the Romans will drive you to seek an alliance with your mortal enemy. However, I must advise caution. As a wise man once told me, no good can be derived from a friendship forged in the fires of vengeance."

 

Martius was going to reply, but he never got the opportunity because of the arrival of Gallus' wife from the market, who promptly shooed away her husband in order to tend to her patient's wound. Probably chided by Emilia, Gallus did not broach the matter of Aufidius to him again over the next five days of his convalescence. Still, the Volsce's words and Aufidius remained a pervasive weight inside his mind.

 

When Martius was at last deemed well, Gallus and his family made ready for their travel to their new home in Circaeum. The kind Volscian asked the ex-soldier to join them, exhorting him to build a new life there. Martius noncommittally said that he would think about it.

 

They were halfway to their destination when Martius shook his head. "Forgive me, my friend. I'm afraid I must part ways with you here. It is to Antium that I must go. I promise, though, that I will heed your wise advice."

 

As Martius jumped down from the cart, Emilia gave him food in a handy sack and a skin filled with water for his journey. Gallus leaned over and shook his hand.

 

"I shall pray that Jove will watch over you, My Lord," Gallus said with heartfelt sincerity to his benefactor.

 

Martius did not say anymore and he marched off in a different direction. He never noticed Gallus wave a hand of blessing behind him.

 

"The gods be with you, Lord Coriolanus," Gallus whispered in sorrow, deep in his heart fearing that his going to Antium might prove to be a terrible mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> And if you are thinking of asking, the next chapters of my other fics will come out in the next couple of months. My head is being pulled in various directions--real life, financial problems, family problems, fic writing, etc. Let me burn off these historical fics out of my system first. Need to do these a few at a time. So I won't go crazy. *_*


End file.
